


Under the Falling Snow

by AriadneKurosaki



Series: IchiRuki Month 2020 [27]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bonus IR Week is NSFW Week, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, IchiRuki Month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriadneKurosaki/pseuds/AriadneKurosaki
Summary: “Oh!” Rukia grins and looks up. “The first snow of the season!” More flakes follow, and soon Ginzan Onsen’s buildings are covered in a fine layer of white, powdery snow. The wind whistles through gaps in buildings and blows spray from the waterfall through the air.The soon-to-be married Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia escape for a winter getaway.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: IchiRuki Month 2020 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858906
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	Under the Falling Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Day 31, First Snow

The pretty town of Ginzan Onsen is lit up in welcome when a lanky, orange-haired man and a petite woman with amethyst eyes and skin white as the moon set foot in the town center with their overnight bags. The setting sun gleams red off of the towering waterfall at the far end of the town, and the old-fashioned gas streetlights are already lit. A river runs straight through the town and little bridges allow guests of the ryokan to pass back and forth over the rushing water.

“This is so beautiful,” Rukia breathes, and immediately holds up her phone to take photos. Ichigo just grins and holds both of their bags as his fiancée captures pictures of the white plaster and wood ryokan, of the rushing water of the river, of the other tourists strolling through the town in colorful yukata and warm yukata coats. The fading sun glints off of the diamond on Rukia’s left hand, sending shards of light around them.

“Come on,” he says, finally. “We need to check in before dinner, and I know you want a soak in the onsen.”

Rukia puts her phone away and slides her hand into his. They walk to the ryokan they are staying in, a beautiful inn in an historic style. In the genkan they remove their shoes and are greeted by a yukata-clad young woman with dark hair who bows in greeting, introduces herself as Saito Mamani, and leads them to a beautifully appointed lobby.

“Please, have some tea and a snack while we check you in,” she offers when Ichigo and Rukia are seated on a comfortable sofa. A pot of green tea, two cups, and a little tray of sliced fruit are placed before them, along with a form. “Dinner will be at seven. You are welcome to eat in your guest room or join us in the dining room.”

They exchange a look and Rukia says, “We’d like to eat in our room tonight, please.”

Mamani bobs her head. “What would you like for your drink this evening?” she asks.

“Sake would be lovely.” When the young woman bobs her head again and departs, Rukia rolls her shoulders back and pours tea for them both, then inhales the steam from her cup and lets out a slow sigh. “I already feel more relaxed,” she says, as Ichigo fills out the check-in form.

“Good. That’s what we’re here for,” he tells her, and brushes his lips against her temple. “We both need a break.”

“Mhm,” Rukia agrees, and sips her tea. “We’re early enough that we have time to enjoy the onsen before dinner,” she suggests.

“Eat your fruit so you don’t get lightheaded,” Ichigo says in reply.

When they have drunk their fill of tea and eaten the fruit, Mamani returns and ushers them to a room at the end of a long hallway. As she opens the door, Ichigo and Rukia step inside and exchange a look.

“Ah, Saito-san, this is a beautiful room. It seems…much larger than the one we booked.”

The woman hides a giggle behind the sleeve of her bright yellow yukata. “We understand that you will be marrying shortly after your stay here. Please, relax and enjoy yourselves this weekend.” She sweeps away before they can object, leaving the room keys in Rukia’s hand.

“Did you tell them?” Ichigo asks, and Rukia shakes her head.

“Your father knows where we’re staying.”

Ichigo groans in response. “We’ll have to thank him when we get back. But for now…” He lets the door shut and carries their bags inside.

The guest room, twice the size of the one they booked, is divided into three spaces. There is a low table in the middle of the room with legless, cushioned chairs on either side. Through a shoji screen to one side there is a tatami-covered area and two sets of fusama. The other side holds a sitting area with a comfortable sofa and a flat-screen television on the opposite wall.

They change quickly into the yukata and coats provided by the ryokan, and Ichigo laughs when Rukia has to hike up her purple floral yukata and create a fold held together by her obi to keep it from dragging on the ground.

“Stop laughing at me!” she demands as Ichigo ties the narrow obi around his navy blue yukata. He just drops a kiss on her forehead.

“I should have warned them that you’re tiny,” he teases, and dodges a kick to his shin. “Come on, midget.”

The indoor bathing rooms are beautiful, though single-sex, and so they separate at the curtains that lead to the men’s and women’s baths. “We can try and book the Omokageyu tomorrow,” Rukia promises when Ichigo grumbles a little.

The baths are worth the temporary separation: Rukia floats in a steaming hot, rock-lined pool of water that overlooks the countryside, and even the chatter of the other women in the baths is muffled. Eventually she finds a perch along the wall and leans back, closing her eyes as the hot water forcibly relaxes every muscle in her body.

Later, she dips herself in the cold-water bath to cool off and hurries, shivering from the sudden chill, to dry off and pull her yukata on for the trip back to their rooms. Ichigo has beat her to it, and the sight of him with just a towel wrapped around his waist banishes any chill in the air.

Ichigo catches her staring and his eyes meet hers, deep amber to amethyst. But he says, “Dinner will be here in a few minutes.”

Rukia tidies herself up just in time: there is a knock at the door and Mamani comes in with a positively enormous tray of dishes: a hassun full of bite-sized appetizers, bowls of soup, thin slices of sashimi, grilled and fried fish, and more. There are two aperitif glasses of sweet-smelling liquid and sake cups, as well as a tokkuri of sake.

“Please enjoy,” Mamani says, and leaves them to enjoy their meal.

And enjoy it they do. When she returns an hour later the dishes are respectably empty, and she carries the tray away, leaving behind two small bowls of green tea ice cream. “I’ll return in a few minutes to set out your futon,” she promises.

Between the long trip from Tokyo, the heat of the onsen, and the large meal, they are both struggling to keep their eyes open. By the time they have finished their ice cream and Mamani has laid out the futon and cleared away the empty dishes, Rukia is yawning heavily even though it’s barely nine in the evening.

Ichigo makes the decision for them both, standing and stretching before he covers a jaw-cracking yawn. “Come to bed, before you fall asleep there,” he says, and holds his hand out to her.

“But we’re finally _alone_ ,” Rukia whines, but takes his hand and allows him to pull her to her feet.

“And we’ll be alone for two more nights, midget,” Ichigo promises, and there’s heat in his gaze but he ushers her over to their futons.

They change into their sleeping yukata and take turns in the small water closet behind the second set of fusama. Then, when the lights are turned off and the only light in the room is a border of soft yellow from the lamps outside, they crawl under the covers and curl together on their futon.

Ichigo’s lips meet hers in the darkness before they settle in and soon, the only sound in the room is low, even breathing.

After they wake the next morning and have breakfast, they explore the wilderness surrounding the town. It is bitterly cold, but early enough in the winter that a few of the trails are still open, and Ichigo and Rukia don hiking boots and coats to walk through Omokage Park and around the Shirogane Falls until early afternoon. Rukia takes lots of photos, capturing poses of them in their winter gear near shrines and waterfalls.

The clouds have gathered as they hike, and when they come back to the town center, the first flake of snow falls from the sky.

“Oh!” Rukia grins and looks up. “The first snow of the season!” More flakes follow, and soon Ginzan Onsen’s buildings are covered in a fine layer of white, powdery snow. The wind whistles through gaps in buildings and blows spray from the waterfall through the air.

Ichigo can’t help but echo her grin with one of his own, and they stay outside just enjoying the snow until they are both so chilled that they have to hurry inside to the onsen again just to warm up.

“Ah, Kurosaki-san, Kuchiki-san, you should know that the forecast for snow is more significant than we usually expect this early in winter,” Mamani says when they walk into the dining room in the early evening. The landscape outside is much changed from earlier: half a foot of snow already covers the ground and the bridges across the river, turning the town into an old-fashioned winter wonderland.

“It’s _gorgeous_ ,” Rukia says, and the other woman smiles.

“It is, Kuchiki-san, but the snow is not expected to stop until tomorrow afternoon. I would not advise any outdoor activities.”

“We can keep ourselves entertained,” Ichigo assures her as they sit down at a small table. There are twenty other guests in the dining room, but conversation stays at a low murmur, and the occasional clink of a glass or a plate can be heard over the noise.

Dinner is just as elaborate as the previous night, but this time when its remains have been swept away and they are back in their room, Rukia opens the shades so that they can see the snow falling outside.

“It really is beautiful,” Rukia whispers. “I wish we could go walking in it, but Saito-san said that the storm is going to turn into a blizzard later.”

Ichigo nuzzles the back of her neck gently and one arm slips around her waist to pull her close. “I’d rather not have to dig you out of a snow drift,” he agrees, and lowers his lips to the nape of her neck. “You’d turn into an icicle.”

“I _like_ the cold,” she objects, and shivers when his lips drop to her shoulder and he starts to loosen the knot of her obi.

“Then why are you always grabbing onto me for warmth?”

Rukia laughs softly but turns toward him and pulls him down for a kiss. “That’s part of why I like the cold. I get to warm up with you.”

Ichigo pulls the shade back down and sweeps Rukia into his arms. “Let me warm you up, then.” His voice is low and a little rough, and when their eyes meet his are honeyed amber and filled with heat.

The world is quiet in a snowstorm, the falling and piled up flakes attenuating the sounds beneath them and creating a hush that spreads through the air. In a small town like Ginzan Onsen, the quiet is almost unnatural. The only sounds in the world around them are the ripples of Rukia’s yukata falling to the floor beside Ichigo’s and the susurrations of heavy fabric as Ichigo pulls back the duvet from their futon.

Skin against skin they touch, mouths meeting and parting first softly, then more passionately as they press closer to one another. Her hands tangle in his hair as he slides down her body, pressing kisses to skin pale as the moon and flushed with the beginnings of pleasure. Rukia’s lips part on a throaty moan that shatters the silence when his mouth finds her core, as his tongue laps at heated skin until she is writhing beneath him and arching to meet him. His hands hold her steady against him until she is nearly at her peak before he draws back, and Rukia’s moan breaks their silence again.

“ _Ichigo_!”

His lips smile against her skin and blow warm air onto her before he brings her higher once again, keeping her just on the edge for what might be minutes or an hour: in the darkness of this room, in the snow-filled silence of the world around them, time has no meaning. There is only the two of them, only Rukia’s moans and the wet lapping of Ichigo’s tongue, only the slick slide of two fingers into her core that have her arching and aching for more.

“Do you want to come for me?” Ichigo finally asks, when she is dripping wet and her skin is flushed pink, her pupils blown wide and lips red from being bitten.

“ _Yes_ ,” Rukia gasps, and there is a note of begging in the one-syllable word that breaks in two as it leaves her mouth. “Ichigo, _please!_ ”

His mouth, wet with her slick and grinning, returns to her core and this time his lips suck her clit into his mouth and don’t let up until pleasure crashes over Rukia like a wave and drags her under, spreading out from her core. Her lips barely hold back a _scream_ as white heat makes the world fall away.

When her eyes open again Ichigo is by her side, one arm wrapped around her to hold her close as she shivers through the aftershocks, the other hand stroking her hair. “You’re incredible,” he whispers, and Rukia’s cheeks flush pink. “That was…incredible.”

“It felt incredible,” she admits, and when their mouths meet and she tastes herself on him Rukia can’t help another moan. Ichigo’s hip bumps against hers, length hard and weeping, and she turns into him. Her skin is so sensitive that even just the brush of him against her core sends a shiver through her body, and when they slide together, her leg thrown over his and his length filling her near to bursting, they quiet their moans on each other’s lips.

Theirs is a slow dance of joining and parting, of rocking together surrounded by soft fabric and the hushed silence of the snowfall. His mouth finds her breast, lips sucking the nipple into a stiff peak and then finding the other to do the same. His fingers slide down between them and stroke, hips speeding up as the storm turns to a blizzard that howls outside the windows and shrieks through gaps in the old wooden buildings.

Rukia’s voice rises with the rising wind, and Ichigo’s teeth find and bite the join of her neck and shoulder, marking her as the storm grows more violent. He turns them, pulling her leg onto his shoulder as his thrust turn short and sharp. The sound of their bodies coming together is louder, slicker, as his fingers return to her clit and rub, as his mouth slides up to her ear and whispers, telling her how much he needs her, how she is _his_ , for always, how he needs her to come around him.

Her assents are breathy, high-pitched and wordless, as Rukia writhes beneath him and her arms pull him closer, as her other leg wraps around his hip and the heel of her foot presses against his ass to urge him deeper. _You’re mine_ , she whispers in return, when there is enough air in her lungs for her to speak. Her words turn filthy, so much so that Ichigo’s voice is a dark chuckle in her ear as he moves faster.

“You like that?” he asks, and she breathes her agreement, breathes, _harder_ against his skin.

The blizzard reaches a fever pitch and heat surges through Rukia again, her sex fluttering and clenching around him so tightly as she gasps his name that Ichigo hangs his head and groans into the air between them with the shock of it. In between one stroke and the next he follows her over the edge, her name a guttural thing on his lips one moment and a broken plea the next.

Ichigo manages to turn them again and lets her leg fall gently from his shoulder before they collapse, breathing harshly in the darkness. They are both damp with sweat and Rukia raises a shaking hand to push her hair from her eyes as Ichigo falls on his back beside her and shoves wet bangs out of his face.

“That was—” Rukia huffs out a shocked noise.

Ichigo’s voice is just as breathless. “Yeah, yeah it was.” His arm slides behind her and tugs her close so that she is nestled against him, and he kisses her forehead. “I love you so much, you know that?”

Rukia hums her agreement. “I love you too.”

Outside the blizzard still howls, but they drift to sleep with the duvet cover bunched around their waists and bodies twined together.

In the morning, when a single look out the window informs them that two feet of snow have fallen overnight, Ichigo slides a “Do not disturb” sign on the door and they tumble back onto the futon.


End file.
